Alantie

Willow peered around the corner of the stacks before ducking into the cage where Giles kept his black magick books. She sat in a tiny corner of the large cage, in the shadows, flipping through the pages gleefully. As her fingertips brushed along the words on the rough pages, the words would run into her skin, and up her arms. She blinked her eyes to hold them back, so they wouldn't darken her eyes. She didn't want anyone to know she was reading them. Suddenly the iron cage door clanged shut, and someone locked it. A someone who was whistling some bit of classical music as he turned off the lights. Willow crouched near the bottom of a filing cabinient and stared after the figure in the library through the cold metal. Wesley's form moved to Giles's office where he shut off the light. As he began to move toward the library doors to leave Willow whispered a spell to lock the doors from the outside. Wesley's manly hand reached out and tugged at the doors. His brows knitted together in confusion as he pulled at them harder. They didn't budge. He didn't notice two blackening eyes staring at him from the cage

Mazzy

“My goodness!  Who’s there?” Wesley knew instantly that there was someone, something in the shadows.  He slowly turned around and looked at the slivers of moonlight shining through the cracked windows of the library that illuminated the walls and the floors with a blue glow.  His pupils suddenly dilated, as the blue light became the brilliant fluorescent cast by the library’s bulbs instantly flashing on.  He heard a murmur and a clanging sound by the weapons cage.  He turned and caught a glimpse of fiery red hair and darkened oval shaped eyes peering at him.  “Where ya going so fast, Pierce Brosnan-man?”   Willow spoke to him in a low, seductive voice.  For the first time since he had come to the Hellmouth and began “running” with the so-called Scooby Gang, he took a long hard look at the girl.  Immediately, he had fancied the stunning Cordelia, but looking at this girl with her blend of naïveté and sudden authority…well, he’d be a fool not to be aroused by her.  He slowly approached the cage where her arms lazily hung through its steel bars, and her body leaned into its frame.  “Willow, whatever are you doing in there?”  He looked down at his watch and noted the time, “at this godforsaken hour?”    She grinned at him, her lips curving in a lopsided way, “Having fun, wanna play?”

Alantie
"Havin' fun. Wanna play?"
He shivered...something seemed cold in her manner, but very attractive. One dark eyebrow arched over his clear eye skeptically.
"Willow, whatever is the matter with you?"
"Why Don't you let me out and I'll tell ya." She grinned at him, her eyes getting increasingly blacker. Wesley hesitated, and then crossed his arms over his muscular chest covered by a light blue sweater.
"Let yourself out. You were reading the magick books." he pouted at her. It was her turn to be confused. She stood up straight and whispered a spell. The cage door swung open, and she walked casually out, her head still tilted in confusion.
"Are you POUTING at me, Wesley Wyndham-Price?" one of her skinny hands raised to her face, where she seductivly played with a bit of shimmering red hair near her partly-opened lips. She made a pouty face, mocking him.
"They are MY magick books." he said strongly, his eyes turning black. Willow watched his transformation, astonishment across her face. Astonishment soon turned to utter joy as the darkness of their passion and craft overcome both of them, Wesley strode forward and forcefully set a kiss on her open mouth. She tore herself away and pulled off his glasses violently. Wesley laughed, its clear night quality vibrated in Willow's ears as he shouted an incantation to turn off the lights, and pushed her to the library table.

Mazzy
Wesley's intention was to get her on her backside.  A primal urge to take this woman and ravage her to the core welled up inside him and something in him told him not to fight it.  He grabbed her ass firmly and squeezed her warm flesh as he hoisted her upon the brown wooden table.  They kissed furiously, spit smacking and pleasant moaning coming from her mouth.  He slipped a cool hand up under her skirt and reached for her warm spot.  His hands fingered the frills of her lacy underwear and she moaned in delight.  She was wet and ready for him.  He pulled at the garment, pulling it down over her legs, and scattering it to the floor.  Her hands roamed over his blue sweater urgently tugging to pull it over his head.  "These fuzzy sweaters are getting in the way of our fun!" She pouted teasingly, pulling her own pink, flowery one over her head and grabbing his in turn.  The only key piece of clothing left to discard were his pants.  Willow hopped off the table, stood directly in front of him and reached for the buttons of his pants.  She laughed delirously as she began to undo them.  She pulled them down so fast, it felt like his bare legs were scratched with heat.  Suddenly, he was the one being ravaged.  Her eyes were dark and glinty and he could see flecks of red dancing in her pupils.  A single bead of sweat ran down from his forehead to his cheek.  Was he suddenly nervous again?  She turned him around so his buttocks were now facing the table.  With incredible strength that seemed to come out of nowhere, she hoisted him up on the table.  His back slammed against the hard surface and she leapt ontop of his body, mounting his long lean frame.  Her fingernails, though short and neat, felt very sharp as she teasingly ran them over his mildly hairy chest.  "You like to feel that?"  Then she bent down and whispered in his ear.  "You like to feel pain?  I can make you scream."  She blew in his ear and the thing she did next made him scream out.

Alantie

Willow awoke slowly. Her naked chest pressed against a smooth, lukewarm surface. Warmed by body heat, she could tell, since it was sticky and foggy where she lay. Something was on top of her. She lifted her left cheek from the sweaty wooden table surface  and blinked into the mist covering her eyes, making out the library. Her eyes were clear and hazel, and her memory was slowly returning. She turned her head abruptly to the right to brush the hair out of her face, since her hands were pinned down by...other hands. A male face lay next to her, facing her. The lids were still and the mouth was slighly open, his body was sprawled across hers, and his fingers held her hands gently, but firmly. "Wesley," she breathed, "oh my god". She squirmed out from under his muscular body and collapsed onto the floor, scanning it for her clothing. Wesley blinked and sat up. "Oh god, my head ache. Where are my glasses?" The red head on the floor desperatly grabbed the nearest article of clothing and cluthed it to her bare torso, still flaming from its pressure on the table, but now her face grew crimson from embaressment. Wesley ran his limber fingers through his short hair, causing it to look even more messy and...strangely attractive, Willow noted. He was an attractive man, with thick dark hair, and shapely side burns. His long brown eyebrows twitched superiorly above his long lashes, the crows of his twinkling eyes. He blinked and blinked, that mist over his eyes was getting to him too, Willow smiled. She rose to the table and sat next to him, carefully, still clutching the soft blue man's sweater to her body. "Did we...do ...THIS?" she murmered, surveying the chaos of the highschool libraray. The cage was violently open, stuff strewn about inside. Their clothing was thrown eveywhere, over the banisters and lamps. And more human liquid than sweat was smeared across the floor and table. Willows wide eyes closed in a squinted grimace. Wesley nodded slowly, and then focused on her face for the first time. Her innocent eyes we back, her hair was all tangled like christmas lights, shining and beautiful. Her auburn eyebrows were arched skeptically, nervously, and disbelivevinly above her eyes. He slowly lifted his smooth hand to her tiny white cheek, and pulled her face to look at him. He felt her alabaster skin tense at his touch, but she raised her huge eyes to look at his. "Will. Are you okay? I mean, with this?" he motioned to him and her. His uppity attitude was nonexistant. Willow had never seen him like this. Now the only superiority he had was his accent, and even that seemed to display is worry and love instead of null it. She brought one slender hand up to his face, bringing it down his high forehad, to his jaw, and resting her fingers on his lips and clefted chin. "Yeah." she whispered, leaning in to kiss him, the blue sweater dropping to her lap as she wrapped her tiny limbs around his strong body. He kissed her back, relived, but feverously. Last night, they made love as...well, it wasn't love. It was raw sex, they weren't themselves. This morning it was love. They saw each other in a new way....on a tuesday morning at the highschool. Wesely pulled away abruptly and turned to the clock. "Oh my god, Giles will be here in 15 minutes." he muttered, and then turned back to the beautiful innocent pale beauty sitting sensously on his lap.
 

Mazzy
The school bell was ringing and instinctively Willow knew that meant Giles, who was NEVER late would be walking through the library door any minute.  She began to gather her belongings and redress herself as panic grew inside her.  What would they say?  Giles, Xander, Buffy?  What would they think of her now?  What would they think of what she’d done?  If they saw--if she could possibly explain how it happened or what had happened!  And should she be ashamed?  She tried to collect her thoughts but all she could hear was the incessant ringing.  Despite Wesley’s presence, she suddenly felt worried and alone and something was nagging at her very core, her very being.  The room began to spin.

Willow opened her eyes.  When did she close them?  She was lying down again, her flushed cheek against naked flesh.  A warm body stirred underneath her, rising and falling with its  breathing.  She wasn’t on the desk of the library, but in her bed--in her dorm room?  She crunched her eyebrows trying to make sense of things, trying to remember.  The ringing!  It was still there.  An arm, not her own, stretched across her body to reach the nightstand.  A hand instantly shut off the alarm that blared next to her.  The ringing was an alarm; the hand belonged to her companion.  He withdrew his arm from the alarm and squeezed her tight, hugging her.  Then wet lips met the sweaty forehead of the redheaded girl.  She tilted her head to look upon the face of her loving he-wolf boyfriend.